


IMPROBABLE BIOLOGY

by grey2510, ThayerKerbasy



Series: Elevator Music [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: CH meta madness, Cucumber Water, Dean has a thing for wrestlers, Dean/Cas mentioned (off screen), Dean/OMC (off screen), Gen, Luchadors, M/M, Other, POV Outsider, Tentacles, alpha/beta/omega dynamics sorta, and other fandom wank references, eldritch creature, mostly references to the tropes, nothing on screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-15 03:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18490147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy
Summary: Being a luchador and making a good living wage can be rough. It isn't uncommon for many in the profession to have a side gig or two. Miguel, however, kind of regrets his, even if the last time hadn't been all that bad. He'd mostly just chilled in this waiting room with a fairy and a...something. Later, there'd been pancakes. He thinks. It's a little fuzzy. But looking at the script he's just been given, he's starting to have some doubts...





	IMPROBABLE BIOLOGY

Being a luchador and making a good living wage can be rough. It isn't uncommon for many in the profession to have a side gig or two. Miguel, however, kind of regrets his, even if the last time hadn't been all that bad. He'd mostly just chilled in this waiting room with a fairy and a...something. Later, there'd been pancakes. He thinks. It's a little fuzzy.

But looking at the script he's just been given, he's starting to have some doubts.

Many doubts.

Doubts might not actually be a strong enough term.

Major fuck no's might be more appropriate.

"COLDEST HITS: BETA'S TRUEMATE" the script says along the top in some eye-bleeding font. It isn't Comic Sans and it isn't Papyrus, but it's still pretty hellacious.  

Tuning out the faint supermarket jazz music being piped in from somewhere, Miguel scans the cast list and then flips through a few pages, his eyes going wider and wider the more he reads. Confused, baffled, and concerned, he flips a few more pages rapidly.

"Why was I called in for this part?" he groans, rescanning from the first page—even if he'd really rather not see the word 'knot' in that context ever again. "There isn't a single luchador listed!"

"Sure there is," a drawly cheerful voice chirps up. Miguel turns to find a wiry looking guy with a goofy grin who looks kind of familiar but not really—Denny's? Something about Denny's is niggling the back of his mind. "See? On page three?"

Miguel flips to the page and begins to read where the guy indicates with a tap of a finger. "'DEAN: So, you're, uh, a wrestler, huh?' CARLOS—what the hell, why does my name have to be Carlos?—CARLOS: I am. Think we could hit the mats a little later? DEAN: Oh, I think that can definitely happen.'" Miguel stops and almost throws the script in disgust. He gestures to his cape and mask. "Not all wrestlers are luchadores! It's a noble tradition! And who the hell wrote this script?"

The man shrugs. "Sorry, dude. Hey, at least you're paired up with Dean, though. He's a pretty cool guy. He might come across kinda tough, but he's an ol' softie." He pauses. "Have we met before? You seem familiar." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Garth, by the way. I usually get roped into these ones on account of being a lycanthrope. A werewolf. Lotta crossover with werewolves and this trope."

"Miguel," he replies, shaking Garth's hand. For a bony little guy, he's got a solid grip. "I'm, uh, new to this whole alphabet stuff…"

"A-B-O," Garth says. "It's ok. Definitely a learning curve for everyone the first time they come across it. Anyway, I gotta head out. My call time is in five."

Miguel swallows, nods. "Alright, yeah, no problem, man. Good meeting you."

"You, too! Adios!" With a merry wave, Garth saunters out the door.

By the door is the cucumber water cooler, and as soon as Garth is gone, Miguel heads over and grabs a paper cup. He'd rather have booze—any booze, all the booze—but cucumber water's all he's got right now. Dixie cup in hand, he plunks himself down into a creaky grey-blue plastic seat and starts reading through the script again.

Suddenly, there's a presence over his shoulder.

 _HUMAN BIOLOGY AND REPRODUCTION IS STRANGE AND COMPLICATED ENOUGH. WHY DO THEY INSIST ON MAKING IT MORE SO?_

Miguel nearly falls out of his chair and a few drops of water splash on the page.

"Jesus, PLGURTHRLLYLC. Warn a guy." He straightens himself up. "Also, hi, nice to see you again, all that jazz."

 _THANK YOU. IT IS...PLEASING TO BE AMONGST YOU HUMANS AGAIN. PLGURTHRLLYLC LIKES YOU. YOU ARE A GOOD HUMAN._

"Uh, thanks." Miguel shakes the water droplets off the script. "And you ain't kidding about the human reproduction part. This is...I don't even know what! I mean, I dunno what you guys do, but it's gotta be less complicated than _this_."

 _WE JUST EXIST. IT IS QUITE SIMPLE._

Out of the corner of his eye, Miguel sees an appendage of some form or another—it's impossible to really focus on or describe—help itself to the water as well.

 _PLGURTHRLLYLC ENJOYS THIS VEGETABLE BEVERAGE. IS IT TRUE THAT IT CAN DETERMINE WHAT TYPES OF HUMANS ANOTHER HUMAN WANTS TO MATE WITH?_

Miguel frowns. "Uh, no. Don't think so." He downs the rest of his water in a gulp and hopes that what PLGURTHRLLYLC said is just misinterpreted internet bullshit and not real fact, especially given the script he's holding. He fishes around for something to talk about and somehow his brain lands on alien-monster-thing birth. "So," he says before his filters catch up to his mouth, "you guys just pop into being? No tentacle sexytimes? That's it?"

 _YES. THERE ARE OFTEN TENTACLES INVOLVED, BUT THOSE ARE GENERALLY A PERSONAL PREFERENCE, NOT A REQUIREMENT._

One of said shadowy-blurry tentacles taps the script in his hand.

 _PLGURTHRLLYLC IS ONLY A FEW MILLENNIA OLD AND HAS NOT HAD AS MUCH CONTACT WITH HUMANS AS SOME OF THEIR BRETHREN, SO PLEASE SAY IF THIS IS INACCURATE, BUT PLGURTHRLLYLC IS FAIRLY CERTAIN YOUR BIOLOGY IS INCAPABLE OF SUCH A FUNCTION._

Miguel glances down and reads the lines indicated. "Oh _fuck_ no. That is _not_ what that is for." He shakes his head, praying against all odds that this is just a bad dream. "Look, I'm as adventurous as the next guy. Tentacles, sure, why not. Whatever floats your boat. But—"

 _PLGURTHRLLYLC HAS NO BOAT AND IS UNSURE WHY TENTACLES WOULD BE USED TO FLOAT ONE. THEY WOULD BE BEST USED FOR PROPULSION._

"That's not— Never mind. All I'm saying is, who the hell has a self-lubricating butthole?"

 _THERE ARE ACTUALLY SEVERAL BEINGS WITH SUCH A FUNCTION. ONE IS PLGURTHRLLYLC'S OLDEST COMPANION._

"I meant humans!"

_PLGURTHRLLYLC HAS NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A HUMAN._

Miguel crosses his arms, still clutching the script and empty cup, both of which are fairly crumpled by now. "Exactly. And what's with the smell thing?" He pulls the script out and flips ahead a few pages. "Ok, so I'm not Dean's truemate but his truemate Cas is a beta—whatever that means—so he can't scent Dean… I don't even know."

 _IF YOU ARE NOT THIS DEAN-HUMAN'S TRUEMATE, THAT WOULD MEAN YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE IN THE STORY FOR LONG. PLGURTHRLLYLC BELIEVES THAT IS WHAT YOU WOULD CALL AN 'UPSIDE'._

"Yeah, I guess." Miguel isn't sure whether he should be relieved, as PLGURTHRLLYLC pointed out, or disappointed that apparently he's not good enough for Dean Winchester. Well la-de-fucking-da, he'll just find someone who actually appreciates a _real_ luchador.

 _PLGURTHRLLYLC FAILS TO UNDERSTAND WHY THEY ARE EVEN HERE. YOU AND THE OTHER ONE WITH THE IMPROBABLE BIOLOGY ARE NECESSARY, BUT IT SEEMS PLGURTHRLLYLC IS PRESENT MERELY FOR A TEN HUMAN-SECOND TENTACLE CAMEO. IS THAT THE CORRECT WORD, HUMAN-MIGUEL?_

"What, cameo?"

 _YES._

"Yeah, you got it, buddy. Ten seconds of tentacles and you're done." He sighs. "Lucky bastard."

Slouching down in his chair, Miguel wonders if he should just peace out. His rent is paid for the month, he doesn't _really_ need the cash. But before he can decide, the door opens again, the brief air current making a terribly-drawn banner (this one on a black background with mismatched neon letters and pink sparkles) on the opposite wall flutter.

"Hey, guys! Still here?" Garth asks, a grin on his face.

"For some reason," Miguel mutters.

"Coolio. PLGURTHRLLYLC, nice to see ya again, your tentacles are lookin' good, there."

Miguel doesn't know if an eldritch being can preen but he's pretty sure PLGURTHRLLYLC does at the compliment. Good to know: they're proud of their tentacles.

"So how'd your bit go?" he asks as he stands up.

"Great! Dean's all ready for you. Just wrapped up a sweet scene where I reassure him he'll find his truemate soon, not to give up. It was real moving." Garth claps him on the shoulder. "You got this!"

"Uh, thanks." He tries to give Garth a confident smile. Garth seems like a trustworthy guy—this is gonna be ok, right?

 _GOOD LUCK, HUMAN-MIGUEL. PLGURTHRLLYLC LOOKS FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU AGAIN._

Something about PLGURTHRLLYLC'S simple monotone sentiment makes Miguel feel a little braver than even Garth's pep talk had, and so he squares his shoulders, shakes out his cape, and goes to woo Dean Winchester with the worst wrestling pick up lines ever.

He apologizes to his butthole as he goes.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Coldest Hits:  
> [Here was this month's prompt and rules](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/183537822785/april-2019-prompt-betas-truemate-posting-dates). 
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> ****NOTE TO MODS: This fic isn't our "official" submission. It's available for promos for other players, but don't count this one for points.**
> 
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> If you like our stuff, we have more!  
> [Thayer's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/pseuds/ThayerKerbasy/works)  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> And we Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/) and @[thayerkerbasy](https://thayerkerbasy.tumblr.com/)


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